


Cu Sith

by SLq



Series: A Gun and a Knife [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLq/pseuds/SLq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Verger hires Will Graham, a professional killer, to murder Doctor Hannibal Lecter.<br/>Will gets a date with a serial killer instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cu Sith

_Partially inspired by voordeel's amazing Hannibal music video,[WOLVES](https://youtu.be/V8PtUQMbpd8)._

 

* * *

 

 

The door is unlocked.

Will Graham keeps his hand on a looping metal handle cut to resemble scales, considering.

Hannibal Lecter is a meticulously careful man. His home is a small castle of stone walls and ruby-red shingles, skin studded with wide-panned windows that gleam like eyes. Gardens of flowers and shrubbery and dark, curving trees run for several miles in each direction around it, like a moat made of thorns and bark. Fences about eight feet tall ring the entire property. The main alarm system is the lovechild of genius and neurosis, and the other three are wired to tip at random spots around the house - some as far as a mile away.

A bit of an overkill for a psychiatrist, Will had thought. Then again, someone had wanted the man dead bad enough to buy Will's services, so maybe not.

And now the door is unlocked.

Emergencies and special events aside, Hannibal Lecter keeps to a pretty set schedule. Awake at six, out of the house at quarter to eight, in his office by nine thirty. Depending on the number of patients and whether he needed something from the market - the honest to God _farmer's market_ , in a three-piece suit, surrounded by hipsters and hippies and people who are really, really into raw honey - Lecter would be back home between two and six in the afternoon. Lights always went out by eleven.

It is currently a bit past two in the morning and the pretty glass door leading into the first floor sitting room from the estate's gardens is unlocked. Will is suddenly and absolutely certain that the front door is the same. Apparently, his company is expected. Will swears, quiet and fervent. He should go. He should be already _gone_ , fuck Verger's ugly ass and the half a million in cash Will'd been promised.

A wailing wind tears through the surrounding trees. Will's reflection in the glass door seems to grow horns that spread like the branches of a great oak.

Will puts a hand on the gun strapped to his side and presses the handle down. A hiss of a sound and he is inside. Glass clicks against wood as the door falls shut behind him. The sitting room is dark and quiet. Empty. Will leaves it for a hallway he knows leads into a kitchen.

The gun is in Will's hand. Its weight feels good in his grip, familiar and right. Recently, more so than Will's own dick.

Will chuckles, wondering if he should share that tidbit with the good doctor. Maybe he'd get a prescription out of him before smearing his brains against the wall.

Lights come on some feet ahead. A spill of gold eats away the comfortable shadows, forcing Will and the rest of the monsters they harbor to come out and play. Will continues forward, grinning.

"In the kitchen."

"I see you," Will calls back in response to the posh, accented voice. He steps over the kitchen's doorless threshold with his gun pointed at the man's heart.

Hannibal Lecter looks up from a slab of raw meat and smiles.

"Good evening, Mister Graham."

Will cocks his head to one side. "You could've disabled the alarms while you were at it. Almost electrocuted myself in the dark."

Lecter arches an eyebrow. A glint of silver hones Will in onto the fact that the man is holding a knife. A butchering blade, thick steel and a gleaming handle. It had seemed so natural in Lecter's hand Will's eyes had slipped right over it. He sees it now, though.

He sees a hell of a lot more.

"A psychopathic psychologist. How original," Will drawls.

Lecter stills, muscles coiling tight. Then he _smiles_ , wide and hungry, and Will's breath catches in his throat.

"I have heard about you," Lecter says, tone conversational. "I admit, I never believed the stories about your talent."

Will shrugs. "It's useful."

"I would think so. The FBI is still struggling to find a link between the men you killed. Each scene looks like it belongs to a different murderer."

"That's because it does." Will taps his temple with the hand not holding the gun. "I'm always on shuffle."

"They call you Cù Sìth."

Will snorts. "Yeah, that one's pretty much all Freddy Lounds and her little fanbase of wannabe-killers."

Lecter leans back against the gleaming spill of a marble counter. "Having met you, I believe it is a rather fitting title. The Cù Sìth is a bringer of death, an omen of demise."

"It's a green dog."

Lecter laughs softly. "I always imagined it bearing a greater resemblance to a wolf."

"It's still fucking _green_." Will grins back and fuck, is he _bantering_ with his mark? Will mentally runs through the last few minutes. More like flirting. Fuck.

Across the room, Lecter shifts his weight. His feet are flat on the floor now, the knife a long line of silver fire at his right. Blood still drips from the blade. Will licks his lips as he traces it with  his eyes.

"I would rather not fight you, Will," Lecter says.

Will's hand constricts around the gun, slick with sweat. "Is this where I ask you how you know my name?"

"You may," Lecter responds, so fucking calm. Will wants to shoot him in the mouth. Wants to bend him over the counter and fuck him. "Or you may ask me what I did to deserve Mason Verger's vengeance."

"You fucked his girlfriend," Will guesses.

"I made him eat his own face."

Will blinks. "No shit."

Lecter smiles with all his teeth. "Indeed. May I interest you in a drink?"

Will lowers the gun, even though he should probably be putting about a dozen holes in Lecter after an announcement like that. Instead, Will wonders if there's a casual way to adjust one's dick. "Whisky?" he asks.

Lecter's eyes slide down his body, blood-hot. "I believe I have something that will be to your taste." Will feels himself flush, then flush harder with the knowledge. "If you would follow me."

Lecter leads him out of the kitchen. The lights come on one by one, illuminating a long hallway bearing vibrant paintings of various European cities. Will does not see them. His eyes are on Hannibal Lecter and the wide, strong spread of his back.

"The drawing room is through here," Lecter says and stops. The muzzle of Will's gun digs deeper into the back of his neck, black steel on white skin.

Lecter's voice wafts in the quiet between them, deep and narcotic.

"If you are about to kill me, may I make a request regarding the way you display me after?"

Will is so hard it _hurts_.

"God." The gun slips down Lecter's neck, follows the curve of his spine through a shirt that probably costs more than Will's entire getup. Will pushes the man forward with his other hand, spreading it over the low of his back. "Go. Get me the fucking drink. I need it."

Lecter does. The whiskey is in a glass decanter. No label. One sip has Will collapsing in a plush leather chair with a decadent moan.

Lecter takes a seat across from him and smiles over the rim of his own glass.

"Alright," Will begins after another fortifying gulp. The gun is in his lap. It does a moderate job of hiding the swell of his cock. "So. Cannibalism. Didn't expect that coming in."

"Few people do," Lecter says. There's enough mirth in his voice to make Will reconsider his words.

The whiskey in his stomach grows cold and thick, like congealed blood.

"It's not just Verger is it," he says. "You're eating them. You've _been_ eating them."

Lecter looks serenely back. "Yes."

"Fuck," Will sets the glass on a nearby table with enough force to crack the bottom. Will pays it no mind, blue eyes on the man before him. "I'm usually the nightmare in the room," he says.

"Having met some of your past victims, I very much doubt that." Lecter smiles. "Your pupils are dilated."

"Pupils dilate for a number of reasons." Will murmurs, dragging up half-remembered knowledge from back when he had still been deluding himself thinking he could pursue law enforcement.

"What is yours?"

_Wanting to choke on your dick._

Will swallows. He wants to look away from Lecter's too knowing, too bright eyes, but fears that the moment he does the man's teeth would be in his neck.

Will is kind of afraid to find even that thought is turning him on.

Lecter's eyes slip to Will's lips and then back up, to hunted blue eyes. "How much is he paying you for me?"

"Half a million, cash."

"I will give you two million for his heart." Will starts. 

"Are you going to eat it?" Lecter gives him a smile; Will wants to lick it off his lips.

Lecter bows his head. "I was hoping I could convince you to join me for that meal. I am an excellent cook."

Will blinks, both at the image the man makes attempting coyness and his words.

"Are you asking me to dinner, Doctor Lecter?" he says, half-incredulous. But only half.

"Yes. And please, Hannibal will suffice."

Will stares at the man and considers. On the one hand, cannibal. On the other, fucking hot cannibal and about the only thing to get Will's blood pumping other than his work in a pathetically long time.

"Alright," Will says.

Lecter lights up like a - well, a very satisfied serial killer. Will really, really wants to kiss him but is kind of attached to his tongue.

Will stands. He drains the remainder of the whiskey, wincing at the burn. Nice. "Well, it's been lovely, but I'm afraid I've got to go."

Hannibal rises as well. A slight frown mars his aristocratic features. Will remembers he is a Count of some sort and stifles a deranged giggle.

"I was hoping you would stay."

"Sorry, too much to do. Verger is not exactly an easy mark, you know. It's gonna take some time to find a weak spot to exploit. Plus," Will grins, allowing himself a moment of semi-drunken flirtation, "I don't put out on the first date."

Hannibal is suddenly close enough to touch. Startled, Will presses the gun into his stomach, finger on the trigger. "How about the second?" Hannibal asks against Will's mouth. Will licks his teeth.

"Mmm, only if you buy me something nice." Will gasps as Hannibal catches his bottom lip between sharp, sharp teeth. Fear spikes through him. He moans. Hannibal sucks the captured flesh into his mouth and releases it, slow and reluctant.

"A crown of rubies," Hannibal murmurs and steps back. Will fights the need to chase after him. A grin stretches Hannibal's lips as he adds, "Or perhaps a leash would be more fitting to your alter ego?"

Will smirks. "No need. If you play your cards right, I'll let you choke me with your hands."

Hannibal looks like he's been punched in the gut. Then he looks _starved_. Which, bad association at the moment. Will backs up with a jaunty wave of his gun and leaves Doctor Lecter sprouting a hard-on in his huge, fancy house.

"I'll be back with Snow White's heart," he calls out, one foot out the door. The front door this time and yes, it was unlocked.

A quiet chuckle rumbles somewhere close behind.

Will lets the door slam shut and takes off at a hard, mad run.

The thought that Hannibal Lecter might one day follow has him wanting to howl at the moon.


End file.
